


Tickled Pink

by notabadday



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 00:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2712824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notabadday/pseuds/notabadday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was really excited about the preview for The Greybar Hotel and this felt necessary. </p><p>---</p><p>"You're ticklish."<br/>"No, I'm not."<br/>"Yes, you are."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickled Pink

With one eye open, Lisbon looked over at the clock on her bedside table. 05:30.

She had been woken up by the tickling sensation of Jane's wandering hands affectionately brushing along the arch of her hip. From the lightness of his breath, she could tell he was in a shallow sleep. She wanted to be comforted by his touch, to let it soothe her back to sleep with thoughts of his tender caress. It did not. She fidgeted against him and, with catlike reflexes, almost rolled out of the bed as his fingers came to brush against a particularly sensitive spot. That woke him up.

 "Teresa?" he said, half-groan and half-yawn. His hair looked ridiculous, curls having ascended into what looked like a ball of fluff above his head. She couldn't help but laugh a little from the edge of the mattress, where she clung to the sheet in an attempt to stay off the ground. "What in God's name is happening right now?"

 "You," she paused, trying to muster a serious tone, "need to keep your hands to yourself, mister."

 "What did I do?"

 "You tickled me," she told him, the protestation in her voice coming across more theatrical than planned. His bemused expression broke into a smile. It was one of those smiles that she found unbearable - the full width of his face, teeth on display, smugness in his eyes. Unbearable and hot, really hot.

 "I did not tickle you. I was asleep."

 "Well, whether you were conscious or not, you tickled me," she replied, her stern tone doing little to quash his amusement. She wanted to tell him to stop smiling but knew from experience that any attempt would be futile.

 "Move back over, you'll fall out of the bed," he suggested, holding out a hand to pull her back towards the center of the mattress. She was suspicious of his motives but acquiesced.

 Happier not to be slowly descending to the floor, Lisbon settled once more next to Jane. He moved onto his side to allow her to cosy up against him which, almost to his surprise, she did. He kissed the back of her neck and smiled, both of them closing their eyes as they attempted to go back to sleep as big spoon and little spoon.

 After a beat, Jane's eyes blinked back open, with trouble on the agenda. With feathery touch, he moved his hand back to her bare waist, the skin her camisole didn't quite cover, and felt her entire body flinch against him before she leapt out of his embrace.

 "Jane!"

 Lisbon glared at him stonily, as Jane couldn't hide his amusement. As she edged further and further away from the bed, he began to get out himself, as though she would be less suspicious of him without a duvet to hide behind.

 "Jane, I think this is a good time to remind you that I own a gun."

 "Lisbon," he smiled, mocking her use of surnames as they stood either end of their bedroom in their underwear. "I am very valuable to the FBI. If you shoot me, they won't like it."

 "The FBI can bite me," she responded without hesitation, before more thoughtfully adding: "I really think you overestimate your value to the FBI."

 "Now, that's hurtful," he said with a grin.

 "I think you should let me tickle you now."

 "I'm not ticklish," he replied, as though revealing the fatal flaw in one of their master plans.

 "Why don't I believe you?"

 "I don't know, Lisbon, but I really think we should talk about these trust issues."

 "Let me tickle you and then we'll be even," she promised.

 "After everything you've done for me, more than anyone could ever ask of a person really, there's just no way we could ever be 'even'..." he reasoned, with a sudden shift in tone which, it became clear, was his best attempt at diverting the conversation. She watched him flounder, her face relaxing as she planned her attack.

 The catlike reflexes were back. She approached with intent, arms outstretched to test his claim. He remained still, letting her try. His lack of protest began to make her nervous as her fingers traced his skin in a, so far hopeless, attempt to find his soft spot.  Nothing. His irritatingly smug expression was back. Lisbon's hands retreated. She paused, standing in front of him as they both stood very still for a moment, and defeatedly sighed, "You are infuriating."

 "You are charming," Jane said, reaching to touch tenderly touch her face. It was deflection, though. One hand wrapped around her, lifting her up, as the other returned to her side with a tickle that was more purposeful than before. She riggled against him, erupting with laughter.

 Holding her body to his as she shifted around in his arms, Jane moved them both back to their bed. Before her back even touched the mattress, he had stopped tickling her. She calmed as he hovered, still, above her, before purposefully reaching for the back of his head and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

 "No more tickling," she whispered, breathlessly, as their lips came apart.

 Nodding enthusiastically as she pulled her camisole top over her head, he replied, "No more tickling."

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always delightful so kudos or comment if you please. I hope you enjoyed it.


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